Mhari smiles at Buojrez and winks at her charmingly, "..yes, milady...definitely Boots!"

The trinkets of the serpent creature collected, Mhari drags the beast inside the gates and helps shut them against any further attackers.

Turning to the returned researchers, "..Is anyone seriously injured we do have some medical supplies to bind wounds."

He will walk over to Buojrez and hand her the items retrieved from the snake creature, "..you may want to examine these. The cypher might be useful in finding your red-skinned woman companion who.. vanished?"

Alberic claps D'Bee gingerly on the shoulder, clearly cautious of the red slick. "Better get you a bath, old boy!" He declares in a cheerful voice - unfortunately, this being, Alberic his forced grin looks more rictus than cheerful.

As they enter the gates, he glances uneasily back at the scene of the fight. "We are two down. Zalbane and Volk - but what were those things?"

OOC: I'm assuming here that Volk was still being held by the creature when it disappeared - it didn't just let him go?

At Mhari's offer of medical assistance, Alberic shrugs. "I took a bit of a beating but to be honest, I think most of that's going to need a little time in the workshop." He lifts his shirt - there is a nasty bruise beginning to form over his right ribs, but most of the damage is on the mess of metal and tissue that makes up the left side of his body. Protruding bits of metal have snapped, and a number of LEDs have been shattered. A small amount of hydraulic fluid is leaking down his side, and staining his shirt.

"Anyway, I'm Alberic." He offers his right hand to Mhari. "Some call me the Half-Consumed. Nasty run in with the Iron Wind." He gestures towards the left side of his body. "Glad you turned up when you did. I wouldn't fancy our chances against those snake-chaps without you. Still, er, their target doesn't seem to talk our lingo. I do wish Tacita were here..."


"Hmm..." Alberic studies the items that Mhari hands over to Buojrez with interest intently with his left eye - the blue orb. After a moment, the sound of a cooling fan somewhere inside his body kicks in, and there is the faint smell of warm solder, as of a machine overheating.

07:34, Today: Alberic rolled 7 using 1d20.  Identifying Cypher(s). 3 Levels of Effort. 7 Intellect - 3 Edge = 3 Intellect.

Mhari smiles and takes Alberic's hand with a firm but friend grip, "Nice to met you, sorry I was not more helpful... I'm Mhari sometimes called the 'Stormbolt'..."

Then his expression changes to one of recognition, "Tacita?  You know her? Pretty Cyan colored hair, green-eyed young woman ~ doesn't talk? How is she doing... we were 'traveling companions', some time ago."

There is something in his expression... perhaps there is something more personal in his past with Tacita?

But he changes the subject and looks at his clothing and gear, "Eh.. I think I got some of that Red goo on me... I should probably get that washed off too.."

He shifts his transparent plastic shield to his back and looks to find water for cleansing...
This message was last edited by the player at 12:35, Thu 29 Oct 2020.

Buojrez glances at the objects Mhari handed her with surprise or confusion. "Not my skills," she says, handing them to Alberic.

She puts down her maul and strings her bow. "I will watch until morning. You all go clean and heal."

"Ah, that's right." Alberic nods, fumbling absently in his pocket for his pipe and jamming it between his teeth. "Spoke using pictures? Well, well. Small world! I thought she might be able to communicate with this D'Bee chap. He seems to have popped out of some portal or other in the forest, and doesn't speak any language we understand."

"Ah, thank you..." He says as he takes the items from Buojrez,and continutes to study them. He holds up a small, mechanical insect and an eyepiece.

"This is an Eyebug. I've seen the like before: you can give it simple instructions, and use this lens to see what it sees... only works for an hour. If Zalbane were nearby, we might ask it to find her, but I fear she may not be on our dimension..." He exhales a cloud of orange, peach-scented smoke, then begins to inspect the other item, a small hand mirror. He exhales experimentally a few times, and grins. "Would you look at that. It's not reflecting my pipe. Just some oddity, I think. Would either of you like these?"

"Nope," Buojrez answers. "I will trust my maul and my bow."

Mhari as he walks away will wave his hand dismissively over his shoulder, "Nah, I'm full up on cyphers anyways... though it might be interesting if you could find out why the mirror only reflects what it wants to reflect?  Oh and you might want to get a good look at the serpent's body to figure out what made your Zalabane vanish... before it gets too ripe."

"Soon as I get this crap off me.. I'll be back to join you Buojrez on watch ~ maybe work on getting some of that serpent hide for your footware apparel eh? {chuckle}"

He heads of the a cleaning basin... with fresh water.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:39, Thu 29 Oct 2020.

"Fair enough. I'm sure it'll come in handy." He puts the mechanical bug and lens into one of the pockets of his coat, along with the mirror, and turns to the dead snakeman. "Now then, my slithery... er, floaty... friend... let's see what secrets you hold... Though, er, living things aren't really my area..."

He first scans the snakeman with his blue eye, [OOC: Detect "Magic", to see if any cyphers are active in the corpse] then pulling a toolkit from his pocket, he begins a crude autopsy.

20:49, Today: Alberic rolled 11 using 1d20.  Investigate snakeman for cause (if any) of Zalbane's Disappearance. (Sorry - I hit "enter" prematurely! I was going to apply 1 Level of Intellect Effort, as I get it free from my Edge.)

D'Bee has slowly, and not without slips, made his way over to a water trough and is splashing himself, trying to clean off the water.  The workmen have provided him a cloth of some sort, which he seems grateful for.  He's also more comfortable around them, perhaps because none of them seem more than merely human (and are not towering over him *cough*Buojrez*cough*).

The gates are shut after the corpse of the creature, which is actually extremely heavy, is dragged within the walls of the clave.

OOC: Certa!inly:

07:34, Today: Alberic rolled 9 using 1d20.  Perception. 2 Levels of Effort. No assets.

As Alberic is helping with the clean-up operations, so to speak, his mind wanders about the clave.  Alighting on a strange, squat pillar just outside the largest building, his eyes light up.

The stout metallic box, perhaps three feet on a side and a little over four feet tall, with the multitude of strange wires protruding from the top has never been of use up to this point, and thus was easily forgotten.  Zalbane said it had been sent by the Order on the initial journey to found the clave.

It is a Language Translator.

OOC: Within a short distance across around the pillar, any language can be understood by anyone else.
 Depletion 1d20 per month of use.

Mhari returns after washing the viscus red-sludge off to take up position next to Buojrez on guard.

He shrugs drawing his Crystalline Yatagan to have at hand ready for use, and comments, "..so are those Serpent folks in any great numbers around here.. or was that your first encounter with them?  They were NOT monsters.. they were intelligent they clearly were communicating between themselves."

"Any idea what's so interesting around here the Aeon Order is interested in starting a Clave here?"

Buojrez shrugs. "I just got here with the same supply run as you."

"So far I see that they like to explore in the dark, have skills but no good in a fight, and in the morning we will see what we will see."

Alberic gives a slightly embarrassed cough. "To be honest, I wasn't one of the originals sent out here, either. I arrived from Jargolamis by way of an Exigen Pocket Dimension, and, well... I figured I'd be out of a job back in Jargolamis after that little trip, so I hooked up with the Team here. Still, I know they're interested because people keep turning up unexpectedly here. People like..." He nods his head towards D'Bee. "We found some machinery in a cave down in the gorge, which seemed to be what brough him here. How, and why, I don't know. Nor whether it also brought those snake-ish fellows.

"Still," He points towards the translation pillar. "Perhaps this Translation Pillar will give us the means to at least speak to him. We should be able to understand each other if we all stand close."

He proceeds to make his way over to D'Bee. "I say, D'Bee! You wouldn't mind coming over this way?" Unfortunately, being Alberic his method for trying to get D'Bee across is to place metallic left arm around D'Bee's shoulder and try to steer him towards the Pillar. "I think I've got the very thing that should help us out..."

D'Bee startles at the touch.  He's shivering, as well, but that could just be because he's soaking wet from trying to wash the oily substance off.  While shunning the contact of the part-mechanical man, he does take his meaning and follows Alberic where he's leading.

Alberic completely misses D'Bee's discomfort, far more interested in trying out the Translation Pillar. Once both he and D'Bee are near the pillar, he carefully places a hand against it, hoping it will work correctly, then says: "Now, with a bit of luck you can understand me. Er, can you understand me?"

D'Bee looks startled a moment before his face becomes a mask of suspicion.  He nods slowly to Alberic.

"Where am I," he asks.

From across the courtyard, in their positions by the gate, Buojrez and Mhari can make out the same gibberish they've heard from D'Bee before.  Alberic's speech is still the Truth to their ears.

"About a day North of Yenth." Alberic replies, cheerfully. "We're a little Clave set up to investigate mysterious appearances. Er, apparently. I got here through a Pocket Dimension. Long Story. Anyway, your appearance was pretty mysterious, so it definitely falls under our wheelhouse. All that machinery down there was doing something, so we went to take a look, and lo and behold, you turned up. Then those strange snake-like people- well, you saw what happened, I guess!" Alberic catches himself mid-flight. "Anyway, er, perhaps I could reverse the question - where do you come from? And where were you before you were here?"

He peers carefully at the translation pillar. "I hope I'm not overloading this translator doohickey. We're going to need it if we're going to talk to each other..."

He turns back to D'Bee, wholly oblivious to the fact that he has completely failed to introduce himself.

D'Bee continues to glance around nervously, although his expression keeps passing between anxiety and confusion.

"What are you?  That red person, what was she?  What were those snake things?  Is this some kind of ... act?  Set up?"

He shifts nervously on his feet.

"Ah, of course!" Alberic grins - it is meant to be reassuring, something Alberic's distorted face can never manage. He places his pipe in his mouth, and warms up to his subject. "My name is Alberic. I didn't start out like this, of course. I used to look quite normal! I had a little run in with the Iron Wind... I got half out the way, but the bit of me that was left in the cloud... well, the result is as you see. Some call me the Half-consumed!" He chuckles, clearly thinking this very amusing. "It has its benefits - I bet those snake-chaps didn't expect so much tough stuff under old Alberic's soft exterior! It has its downsides, too, mind you. I'm not the looker I once was. Now, Zalbane - the red lady who is currently missing - she was also a victim of the Iron Wind. She used to look quite normal, but took a blast full on, as I understand and ended up... red. But that's her story to tell. "

He coughs - producing a cloud of green, menthol-scented smoke - as he realises that he is beginning to get carried away. "Anyway. Those snake-things: I was rather hoping you could tell us. They seemed very interested in you. I assumed they had come from wherever you came from, but I take it that's not the case." He pauses abruptly. "Maybe they're the ones summoning people!" He muses. "But why? Why?

"Anyway, no it is not set up. Not a coincidence, either: we were sent to investigate people appearing mysteriously, so it's not so surprising that when you appeared mysteriously you met us. What we want to find out is who's doing it and why it's happening. And if possible, how to get you home. Speaking of which, where is home to you? Are you from the Steadfast, or out in the Beyond? Not that you'd probably call it the Beyond if you lived there..."

He pauses to wave across Buojrez and Mhari. "I say, chaps! You might want to come over! This Translation Pillars working a rare treat! I'm managing to talk to this fellow!"

Mhari was watching at a distance and talking with Buojrez... the situation here at this new clave was becoming clearer.  Mhari had expected to be working with seasoned researchers or at least someone who was the lead Aeon Priest... but not so.

There did not appear to be ANY Aeon priests here at all... so the only thing he could take from that was that Bar'Sseris had sent him here to not follow an Aeon Priest's footsteps.. but to walk the path OF an Aeon Priest!  No training or guidance.  As the legends say the very first Aeon priest had no "formal" training either.  It was direct field work, only those with tested sharpened curiosity and keen discernment.. plus that ephemeral quality of just plain "luck harnessed" could survive as Aeon priests to endure the strangeness of the world and yet remain sane, 'hopefully' mostly whole to pry forth the world's secrets. No 'school' could teach what it took to be a Aeon Priest... the very first lesson being.. how to survive... but the world was soo strange no amount of formal preparation could prepare one for what one might encounter.  It took equal parts discernment, intellect, martial skill and yes LUCK... to pry forth the world's secrets.  It was perhaps somewhat cruel for the Aeon Order to let prospective adherents twist in the wind.. Mhari was sure those that failed.. tended to die!

So it was starkly understandable why the priesthood did not waste time with schooling for acolytes.. only those that could survive and yet succeed in field research were worth the time and investment of resources to be worth the effort.  The world was a VERY dangerous place!

Mhari heard Alberic's call and knew now was his turn to try where other's feared to tread or were not insightful enough to understand.

He walked over and smiled, "So you can understand us now? D'Bee?  Hello, I'm Mhari, sometimes called 'Stormbolt'.  How are you feeling?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:55, Mon 02 Nov 2020.

You can see D'Bee's face slowly contorting as Alberic talks on.  A combination of disbelief, horror, and confusion twists his features.  Mhari's interruption seems to jog him out of his fugue.

"I can-  I can understand you, now, too.  But those names.  That ... none of those mean anything to me.  Even the words I understand don't make any sense.  What kind of wind?  And what you mean by summoned?  I wasn't sent any kind of invitation to this ... whatever this is, pal!  You need to start making sense.  Where in the blue blazes are we?!  How did I [expletive] get here?!"

By the end of his tirade, his face is bright red, he is panting, and the panic in his voice is clearly evident.  The limits of the Language Translator seem to have been reached, also, as there seems to be no comparable word in the Truth, although the intent seemed clear enough.

Mhari smiles and remaining calm says, "Calm please D'Bee, you are safe here. No one here will try to harm you, and you are free to leave when you choose to.  Please, let me explain."

Turning briefly to Alberic, "Would you please find writing utensil and scribe platen to take notes if you can on the terms D'Bee uses to reply?  We will try getting a lexicon of his words to help start learning his speech if it is possible. Also... please bring me a small mirror."

Then turning back to D'Bee.. he begins, "To US the world as we know it is a massive sphere of rock floating in a black void of space that circles a star in the sky... another massive sphere but made of fiery gasses unlike the rock our world is made of.  The stars we see in the sky we see at night are other spheres of fiery gases far far away... each with its own rocky worlds like our own that circle it.  We call our World Earth or Terra. Our world is Very VERY old... and many are the different peoples who have visited and some stayed upon our world.  Some of these visitors have come from those worlds circling other stars... and some have come from alternate dimensions. There are other realms that exist side by side with our world in the same place.. but not normally visible to us.  We call them alternate dimensions. Whole different realities as real as our own... but not interactive with us unless through special gates or portals that lead to them."

At this Mhari will take the small mirror handed to him and show it to D'Bee, "... do you see your reflection? Think of other dimensions as like the world you see reflected in the mirror. Your mind tells you its just a reflection your reality, but what if it were instead a doorway to another world like your own ~ different but made of people and places of different names. That is what alternate dimensions are like. No one knows how many may exist ~ but they are quite real!"

"It is possible that you come from one of these alternate realities.. so indeed none of our world will seem familiar to you as yours would be unknown to us."

"Please ~ D'Bee, tell me of what your home is like?  Perhaps we may find a way to help you return home if that is your wish?"

Mharis is uncertain how the translator will handle such concepts but learning of its limitations in translation is also part of the Aeon Priest mission.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:26, Tue 03 Nov 2020.

Alberic seems vaguely non-plussed by D'Bee's outburst, and immediately sets about trying to answer D'Bee's questions as they come. "Iron Wind. It's a- Summoned is a bit of an assumption maybe I-"

Mhari's intervention comes as something of a relief.

"Uh, yes. Of course. I have a mirror right here." Alberic pats down his pockets, and pulls out the mirror oddity found on the snake people, and offers it to Mhari. "I'm pretty sure I've got some paper..." He starts rifling through his pack, pulling out odds and ends stuffing them back in and muttering to himself. "Ahem. I might have left in the workshop. I'll be right back."

He hurries off into the workshop, a trail of grey licqorice-scented smoke behind him, and returns with a large pad of paper, stained with yellow grease and a narrow stylus. "I had a thought. Maybe if you say everything twice, D'Bee, I could step out of the translator range and jot it down, then back in to get the translation!" When this doesn't get the enthusiastic response he had hoped for, he shifts his attention to the pad. "Uh, right. I'll take notes, shall I?"

D'Bee's eyes continue to grow as Mhari talks.  Even eventually, he bursts out with "You people are crazy!  You've been reading too much science fiction!  This is insane!"  He starts pacing back and forth, ranting, pointing, gesticulating, as half his words turn to gibberish while he walks back and forth.

"I had a simple plan to-" ...  "and then that stupid flash of-" ... "case is nowhere to be found and these idi-" ...  "I wanted was to live it-" ... "haven't even told me what the-"

Eventually he seems to calm down slightly, returns to the translation area and say, "Look, just tell me this.  Are we in Ore-gone" and you can feel a stress in the translator, not certain of the accuracy "or are we in Washing Town?" and again there is that stress of an uncertain translation.